


Unfuck Your Habitat

by kisahawklin



Series: Supernatural Season 10 Tagathon [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: episodic_supernatural, Episode: s10e17 Inside Man, Gen, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Sam Knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 15:37:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3697673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/pseuds/kisahawklin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam unfucks his room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfuck Your Habitat

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be funny. >:(

Sam sits with Bobby's note a long time. He rereads it at least a dozen times, hearing it every time in Bobby's voice. 

When exhaustion finally gets the better of him, he glances around the room, looking at it critically.

The first thing he does is throw out the toothbrush. He doesn't even want to think about what Dean might have done with it. He takes one out of the stash he has hidden in his bottom desk drawer, under the architectural digests, and a fresh tube of toothpaste, just to be extra sure. 

He looks around the room for other gags, and nothing obvious shows itself, so he strips the bed and grabs fresh sheets and blankets. He debates a fresh pillowcase but then throws the whole pillow on top of the mess on the floor and grabs a fresh one from the closet in the next bedroom where he stocks those sorts of things, as well as the shampoo and soap he buys in bulk because Dean always seems to fuck with it when he's just opened a new bottle.

He sleeps pretty soundly that night, and decides he should probably just invest in a nanny-cam so he doesn't have to guess at the kind of shit Dean gets up to when he's gone. 

He knows it can't be too serious, because the important things are never disturbed, hidden by the most obvious, easiest Dean-repellent around. Books on anything except hunting or porn. The more obscure, the better. Poetry works best of all. 

Sam's had a book of love sonnets by Pablo Neruda for long enough that he's actually read them all. He likes them; especially in the Spanish. He's memorized a couple, though he mostly mutters them under his breath to himself as he falls asleep because he knows he won't have the opportunity to recite them to anyone else. He keeps his will in the back of that one; he knows Dean won't touch it with a ten foot pole until Sam dies. Maybe not even then. But he has hopes that Cas or Charlie will help him pack away Sam's stuff and maybe find it tucked away in the last pages. 

There's nothing to the will, really. It's not like he actually owns anything of any value that he could give away, and even if he did, he doesn't have anyone to give it to. But he has words. Feelings Dean would never let be spoken out loud, and not while Sam's alive. But he might listen to the words from beyond the grave, and believe them. It's the only way Sam will ever be able to tell Dean everything he means to Sam.

It isn't until weeks later that Sam finds the tape on the phone. He's working at his desk when he looks up and sees the corner of a piece of tape sticking up under the handset. He snorts out a short laugh. It's not even a working phone; didn't Dean realize there was no dial tone?

And then he realizes that he and Dean are old enough to know that prank, and it's just so funny that there are adults alive today that woudn't even understand it. They've gotten old. It's a strange sort of miracle.

When he goes to the kitchen to get breakfast and finds Dean pouring himself a cup of coffee, he hugs him from behind, squeezing tighter when Dean pats his arm like it's a totally normal thing for Sam to do.


End file.
